Saber's Night Off Part 1
by 16-horses
Summary: A moment of uncertain peace during the Fourth Holy Grail War gives Saber a night off to enjoy the twenty-first century, but unfortunately for her, it also happens to be the night off for two other Servants. Awkward conversations and weird outfits are the order of the day. Would be rated plain K, but it was necessary to add a plus.


I chewed thoughtfully on my double cheese pizza, wishing we had had it back in the fifth century. My master's wife Irisviel had encouraged me to take a night off. If Kiritsugu needed me, he would call, she assured me, now go and get some pizza. You haven't lived until you've tried it.

The food I once ate in my fine old castle didn't hold a candle to twenty-first century cuisine. People these days really took food seriously. Though the small pizza I ordered was smaller than I thought it'd be. Next time I'd go for the medium. Or maybe even large.

As I stared off into space, pondering pizza, the war, and my left arm – which still hurt – someone slid into my booth across from me. It took me a few seconds to recognize the tall, lean form, unfamiliar in a plain green T-shirt and jeans, but I would know that quirky hair anywhere. The same yellow eyes, high-bridged nose, the mole below his right eye that sent every female within ten feet of him falling head over heels. Every female except me. I blinked. "Lancer? What are you doing here?" At my table?

He shrugged. "There weren't any free tables. I thought you wouldn't mind."

"No." The cheese glued my throat shut.

After a short pause, Lancer asked, "Kiritsugu doesn't need you right now?"

"Not really. What about Kayneth? Did he give you the night off too?"

His lips pressed together. "Kayneth…" he sighed. "We don't really want to be around each other right now. He has every right to be angry with me. If only…"

"If only what?"

"If only he didn't have a fiancée."

Lancer really needed a Master who had no female contact whatsoever. It was bad enough having girls falling all over you for the usual reasons, but if you had a magical beauty mark that was responsible for your first death and could very well cause your second...

Lancer eyed my pizza. "Help yourself," I said. I didn't really need to eat, and besides, I liked him.

He dug right in and claimed a styrofoam cup of coco-cola, probably thinking it was the closest thing in this era to the mead he had drunk in his own. I watched him drink it, thinking how strange it was for two people to be fighting each other to the death one day and sharing a pizza the next. But I never actually thought of us as enemies.

I looked him over. "You look different. Shorter."

He smiled a beautifully wry smile. "Was it the clothes? It's a necessary change. My battle gear would attract some rather unwelcome stares in this setting."

I can't say it looked very comfortable either, and he obviously wanted to relax. The black suit I was wearing didn't really fit in to the pizza parlor atmosphere, but I couldn't see myself in a T-shirt and jeans like him. I sat ramrod straight, balancing a slice on my fingertips. Pizza wasn't the most dignified food in the universe, come to think of it. A string of cheese dangling from my chin didn't help.

"Do you actually want to win the Holy Grail?" I asked at last, but I didn't get an answer.

A shadow rippled over the table. I knew who it was even before I looked up. I made myself look at him, and the sight of him very near blinded me.

Archer, the enemy Servant of Tokiomi Tohsaka, stood by the booth, scarlet eyes plastered on me. He wasn't wearing his flashy gold armor, but his new outfit wasn't much of an improvement: a loose white shirt with a low V-neck and three-quarter sleeves, slinky python-print pants, and white shoes with pointed toes and one-inch heels that had to have come from Mrs. Tohsaka's closet. His golden hair, usually swooped back in a style that probably took a couple cans of hair spray, was now allowed to fall loose, brushing his eyes, and although he wasn't wearing his earrings, he was sporting a very Babylonian-looking necklace and bracelets. All in all, he looked nothing close to normal and I didn't think Tokiomi would be amused if he knew his Servant was making so little effort to be inconspicuous.

"This seems to be everyone's night off," Lancer said dryly. I dug my fingernails into my cup of iced water. "What do you want, Archer?"

He waved an elegant hand in a careless gesture. "Tokiomi's such a bore. His daughter's too young. And his wine cabinet is empty, so I had nothing else to do but look for you."

"For me?" I snarled.

He cracked a smooth smirk and slid into the booth next to me. I plastered myself against the wall. Lancer watched, fascinated.

"Are you going to finish that?" He pointed down at the last two slices of my pizza. I shook my head. He tilted his head at me, still smiling. "You may not be much of a king, but you have the manners of one, at any rate." He breathed right in my face as he said this, and the result of at least four bottles' worth of strong alcohol assaulted me. Tears popped into my eyes and I coughed. I didn't want to look around, see how many people were staring at us. Lancer stirred the melting ice cubes floating in his coke with his straw, trying to think of some excuse to quit the scene without being rude.

I hated awkward silences. I always have.

Archer bolted down the now-cold pizza and helped himself to my water. He wriggled closer to me, pressing right up against my right side, and I shoved him away, trapped. My night off was quickly turning into a nightmare. Something a few booths away caught his attention, and he turned his head away from me. I slumped forward on the table. "Lancer, talk to me. Just until this inebriate leaves."

"As a king you should be sure to respect your enemies," Lancer commented, then changed the subject. "What does Kiritsugu want to wish for with the Holy Grail?"

"World peace. What does Kayneth want?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. He's never told me, and I don't feel it is my place to ask."

"You would still like to know, though, right?"

"Oh, yes."

"Well, I couldn't care less what Tokiomi wants with it," Archer said all of a sudden, snapping his head back to look at us. Lancer and I both jumped. "In fact, I couldn't even care if he gets it or not."

I stared at him. "Archer, you're Tokiomi's Servant. You're bound to help him win the war."

"First of all, there is room for debate on who's the Master and who's the Servant. Secondly, I think the whole war is rather pointless."

Lancer leaned forward and said, "A powerful magical artifact that grants its winner a wish? How is that pointless?"

"Well, I just don't see the point of competing for something which is already mine."

I lurched in my seat. Lancer spewed a mouthful of coke across the table, almost drenching Archer. "Already yours!?" I yelled.

"Yes." Archer said as though it was obvious. "All the treasures in the world originate from my treasury and thus belong to me, in case you didn't know."

"All the treasures… belong to you." I couldn't believe my ears (and my eyes). "Including the Holy Grail?"

"Yep."

"Including everything your Master owns?"

"Yep." He inspected the water cup contemplatively.

"Including…" I racked my brain to come up with something he might not have heard of. I decided to test him. "Including Kiritsugu's Calico M950?"

He blinked at me. "Sure, why not."

It wasn't a treasure. It was a gun. He wouldn't be impressed by it.

"But that's why I'm actually participating in the war," he said. "To protect the Grail from mongrels like you who want to take my stuff."

I sat up straighter. "Wait. If you think about it, protecting the Grail is really a waste of time."

His ruby eyes snapped. "Why?"

"Because no one actually takes the Grail. The winner of the Holy Grail War is granted a wish by it, but they don't actually claim it. This is the Fourth Holy Grail War. Three others have been fought before now, but the Grail is still around for us to compete for. The actual physical object is always left unclaimed. So if no one gets the actual Holy Grail, then why are you so set on protecting it?"

Archer slammed his hands down on the table and flashed to his feet. Raising one fist over his head, he roared, "BECAUSE IT'S MINE!"

Lancer and I crunched up the booth as far away from him as we could get. Everyone in the restaurant was now staring at us, at the bizarrely-dressed Archer burning the air with his eyes.

I grabbed Archer's shirttail and yanked him back down. Trying not to be sarcastic, as it would not befit a king, I hissed, "Please do not go advertising the Holy Grail War to the populace. The less people know about it, the less people will be hurt."

Actually, I probably needed to change tactics. Archer didn't seem like the type of person who would care how many people got hurt in this whole miserable affair.

"I don't know about you two, but I've had all the night off I can handle." I waved a rather nervous-looking waitress over, asked for the bill, and waited. When it came, I sat silently calculating the tip and wrestling with the wallet Irisviel had loaned to me, while the waitress stood chewing her lip and looking back and forth at my two tablemates. Lancer wisely kept the right side of his face away from her. Archer seemed to be debating whether or not to take his shirt off.

I gave the waitress an extra-large tip and Archer a shove. "I would like to leave, please."

He didn't move. Oh, please don't make me have to climb over you.

He did.

As I squeezed by him, practically sitting on him with the tabletop stabbing my thighs, Lancer left a tip of his own beside his lukewarm coke. Like me, he had lost his appetite. He held out a hand for me to grasp as I wrestled myself out of the booth, and I took it gratefully. I didn't like to leave Archer there alone in front of all that money – his comment about owning all the treasures of the world was still with me – but neither did I want to stand there in the pizza parlor in my suit, looking like Archer's chauffeur.

Lancer and I walked out of the restaurant, a foot or so between us. "If Kiritsugu offers me another night off, I'll spend it at his house."

"It wasn't so bad," Lancer said, not even shivering in the nighttime chill in his T-shirt. "We did learn a few things about Archer."

Perhaps a little more than I wanted to know. Lancer went on his way and I walked over to my motorcycle, plunged a hand into my pants pocket. I frowned, hunted. "Oh, no." I turned all my pockets inside out, shaking out traces of lint. "Where is it? I had my key right here in the right pocket. I know I did…" My thoughts trailed off. I turned my head to see Archer sauntering out into the parking lot. Saw me. He gave me a toothy grin before disappearing in a whirl of gold dust. I glared at the gold dust like it was arsenic.

"Key, key." I went on searching, then stopped. I remembered Archer trying to snuggle up against me, against my right side. I checked my right pocket again, slower this time. I shook. "Oh! Oh! That – that golden pervert! That sly philanderer! That –"

Compose yourself, Saber. Kings don't swear. They treat everyone with the greatest respect. Even totally selfish snakes like Archer.

I stared glumly at my motorcycle. Without a sigh left in me I took the handlebars and began pushing it home. Nights off were definitely not my thing.


End file.
